


A Decent Meal

by robofennec



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Body Horror, Cannibalism, Fatal Vore, Gore, Hard vore, M/M, Medical Torture, Murder, No Smut, POV Second Person, Partners in Crime, Reader dies, Reader is Prey, Reader is Vored, Reader-Insert, Vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-22 02:29:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14298789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robofennec/pseuds/robofennec
Summary: Black Hat has a gift for Dr. Flug.THIS CONTAINS HARD VORE AND DESCRIPTIVE GORE. READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.





	A Decent Meal

JOB OFFER

FROM: BLACK HAT ORGANIZATION

FOR: ANY PERSON WILLING

DATE: AUGUST 24, 20XX

TIME: 1700PM

FURTHER DETAILS PROVIDED AT INTERVIEW

 

 

_Odd,_ you think to yourself. _No details provided at all?_

  
  
You’d picked up the flyer off the sidewalk on your way home from work, intending to throw it in the garbage where it belonged, but the strange script written in ink that looked eerily like dried blood had caught your attention, and you couldn’t help but read it.

 

Your eyes widen as you finished looking the half-crumpled flyer over. Black Hat Organization? The Black Hat Organization? Hiring?! You’ve been waiting for this opportunity since you saw one of those “orientations” on TV! It didn’t even matter that it had forcibly interrupted your favorite cartoon, because you just knew you had to end up there somehow.

 

_Is this real? Is Black Hat Organization_ actually _hiring?_ Considering anyone who impersonated the Org.’s namesake or employees would be obliterated, you figure it must be genuine. You wonder briefly if anyone else will attend the interview but toss the thought away. Even if there is another potential employee, you’re sure your dedication, aka fanaticism, will win your new boss over. See? You’re already thinking about Black Hat as your new boss. That’s the confidence you’ll need to get this job.

 

* * *

 

Over the past two days, you’ve made every preparation you can think of. You’ve been working out and eating better (even though you know two days won’t truly make a difference, but it’s a start, right?), fixing up your resume in a way you hope Black Hat will appreciate, and packing up a few of your things if he’ll let you bring them in.

 

It’s 4:50PM right now, and you’re standing outside the imposing gates of Black Hat Manor. You look up at the ludicrous house and wonder whether the plane is real, or just a decoration. You shudder at the thought that something might happen but shake it off. Black Hat wouldn’t put out an ad if he didn’t want a new worker, right? Now that you think about it, it is odd that there were no qualifications on the flyer…

 

Your thoughts are interrupted when you see the gates open in front of you. You expected them to creak, but suppose that was a silly idea, considering Black Hat would never let any belonging of his fall into disrepair.

 

You swallow nervously as you walk forward toward the manor’s front doors. Soon enough, you’re standing right in front of them, but as you raise your hand to knock, the door is opened for you, leaving you looking like a fool with your fist halfway in the air.

 

You recognize the odd creature greeting you as 5.0.5, the failed experiment of a blue bear that kept the manor in shape, and apparently greeted visitors at the door. He’s definitely a lot bigger in person, and if he didn’t look so cuddly, it would scare you.

 

“Baw,” he says, and you nod, pretending to understand. He gestures inside and opens the door wider, and you duck your head politely and walk in.

 

Your first instinct is to look around. 5.0.5 seems patient. You wonder if this is common with visitors.

 

The foyer is huge, to say the least. Most everything is red and black – the walls, floors, ceiling, sofas, clocks, even various animal rugs are somehow tinted unnaturally. Occasionally an accent of white dances across a surface to offset the darkness, and thankfully the lights above you are white too.

 

“Baw,” you hear again, and turn to the bear. You’ve been standing around for at least two minutes, and you really hope you won’t be late. You smile at 5.0.5 and he leads you through the foyer and up a fancy spiral staircase, then down a series of twisting halls that make you feel a little dizzy. Soon, you’re standing in front of a tall, pitch-black door you can only describe as ominous.

 

You turn to 5.0.5 and he nods. You smile at him, and he pats you on the head before leaving.

 

What a strange bear.

 

“Come in, already! What are you doing, just standing there?” a raspy voice yells from inside the room before you. You stand straight and realize that maybe you’re not as ready to face Black Hat as you thought.

 

Opening the door, you shiver as you feel a dark, unblinking gaze settle on you. You smile awkwardly, and Black Hat doesn’t return it, so your face falls again.

 

“Sit.”

 

You shuffle forward and sit in the chair in front of his desk. It was surely much less comfortable than the one the eldritch sat in, but it wasn’t bad.

 

“Answer me when I address you,” Black Hat snaps, and your spine straightens in fear.

 

“Yes, sir,” you say quickly, doing your best to be firm.

 

Black Hat visibly relaxes and leans back in his chair, linking his fingers together on the desk in front of him.

 

“I assume you saw our flyer.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“And why do you think you deserve this job, or even qualify for it?”

 

“I’m… Well, I’ve been a, um, fan for a long time now,” you say, anxiously fidgeting with a loose string on your jeans. “And I thought, you know, since there weren’t actually qualifications on the flyer, that maybe my, uh, devotion would qualify me.”

 

“I see,” answers Black Hat in a low mumble, and closes his eye. You both sit in a silence that’s awkward for you, and probably comfortable for him.

 

After a long moment, his eye snaps open and he stares you directly in the face. It startles you to the point of flinching, and you see the hint of a smile on his lips before they return to their usual grimace.

 

“Fine,” he says curtly, “you’re hired.”

 

“Oh!” you exclaim, and mentally chastise yourself for acting surprised. “Um, thank you, Black Hat, sir.”

 

“Mm. Well, head down to the lab for now. I’m sure the doctor’s got something or other for you to do.”

 

“Yes, sir!” you say, and exit the room. It looks like 5.0.5 was waiting for you, it seems – why did he leave in the first place? Privacy, probably. The bear beams at you and shuffles in place before heading down another hall, presumably toward the lab. You follow without hesitation.

 

_Oh, this is so exciting._

 

* * *

 

 

5.0.5 is certainly faster than he looks… He doesn’t wait for you to catch up before he knocks on the lab doors. Within seconds, they swing open, and though you can’t see who greets the bear, his voice is unmistakable.

 

“Hey there, buddy,” greets Dr. Flug, and briefly leans into 5.0.5 for a hug. The soft creature makes a few noises, and somehow his creator understands.

 

“A new employee? What?” the doctor asked, baffled. “Jefe didn’t tell me about anything like that… They’re here, you say? Right now?”

 

5.0.5 steps aside, and you wave hesitantly. You see Flug flinch, and it makes you feel a little bad.

 

“Uh, Black Hat said you needed some help with something?” you suggest, gnawing at your lip. You’re getting a bad feeling about this.

 

Flug scoffed loudly and crossed his arms. “Help, he said? I’ll have to have a chat with him about that. Well, come in and sit down,” he snapped, obviously offended. As you obey, he gestures to a seat across the room, and you hear him mumble, “Don’t need any fucking help…”

 

As you sit down, you watch 5.0.5 curl up on a pile of blankets beside Flug’s worktable. The doctor begins to pet him without looking, and you smile. It must be a regular occurrence.

 

You swing your legs, becoming more and more bored by the second. Flug is hard at work, and 5.0.5 is fast asleep. You bite your lip again. This isn’t what you expected when you came here.

 

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can he-” You’re cut off as Black Hat bursts into the room, dramatically as always.

 

“Oh! Jefe, there you are,” Flug calls after recovering from a brief moment of panic. He sounds oddly optimistic. “I was wondering when you’d make your way down here.”

 

Black Hat just hmphs.

 

“So why is there a ‘new employee,’ hmm?” Flug asks in a teasing tone as he turns back to his work. “I wasn’t given any prior notice.”

 

Black Hat opens his mouth to speak, but Flug interrupts.

 

“I also don’t need any sort of help, jefe.” His voice is sweet, but you know there’s a bite in his words.

 

“I didn’t want to ruin your surprise,” Black Hat hisses back, “but it looks like you ruined it for me. Congratulations, doctor, you’ve lowered my expectations yet again.”

 

Flug rolls his eyes. “Sorry, jefe, but you’ve got to warn me before you send me insults in the form of living beings.”

 

“As I said, you’re ruining your own damn surprise.”

 

“Mm, why don’t you tell me about this surprise?” Flug asks, still focusing mostly on his work.

 

“First, activate that seat,” Black Hat orders as he sits on the worktable beside Flug. The doctor nods and presses a button on some kind of keyboard nearby, and suddenly you’re bound to the chair you’ve been lounging on. You let out a startled grunt, thankfully saving enough dignity not to scream.

 

Black Hat gently takes Flug’s tools from his hands and sets them aside. “I brought you a gift,” he murmurs as he tilts Flug’s chin up with a finger beneath his bag. “A gift, hmm? You know you’re all I need, jefecito.”

  
  
It’s Black Hat’s turn for an eye roll as he says, “Sycophancy will get you nowhere, Flug,” he purrs. “Besides, you’re as high as you’ll ever get anyway.”

 

Flug smiles sheepishly, though it's unseen.

 

“A meal, doctor,” Black Hat finally explains. “It’s been a while since you’ve had a good one, hasn’t it?”

 

Flug gasps, and even with his bag, it’s obvious he’s beaming. “Really?” he squeaks, and clears his throat.

 

You’re on the verge of panic now, and you really, _really_ hope Black Hat doesn’t mean what you think he means.

 

“Really, Flug,” Black Hat says, doing his best not to grin in admiration of his frankly adorable scientist.

 

You can barely hear a tiny squeal coming from Flug as he stands, bouncing on the balls of his feet. It makes the contrast between you and him even more stark, and that in turn makes your heart beat faster.

 

“I assume there’s still a room downstairs, correct?” Black Hat asks, at which Flug nods enthusiastically. “Perfect.”

 

You feel a piercing gaze on you now, and you realize you’ve been crying for a while now. Black Hat clicks his forked tongue and smiles.

 

“Now, don’t be like that,” he says, striding over and looking down on you. “You’re a devoted fan, are you not? I was under the assumption you’d do anything for me.”

 

You’re too afraid to say anything, but it doesn’t matter, because suddenly you feel a gag in your mouth, placed by Flug, who you hadn’t noticed is now behind you.

 

“We can’t wake up Fives,” he coos, and you feel his hand shake as he runs his fingers over your lips. “He wouldn’t like this very much, the poor thing.”

 

Black Hat sighs. “He’ll be more likely to wake up the longer we wait around,” he points out, and Flug shrugs.

 

“Fair enough.”

 

Black Hat picks you up by the waist, and you know better than to struggle, but you still manage to choke on your own spit.

 

“Ah, don’t worry,” Flug says and waves his hand dismissively as he leads Black Hat along. “That’ll be off soon enough. The room we’ll be in is soundproof, and I left some recordings of me talking science, so Fives is gonna be fine.”

 

Panic is filling every part of you now, and you vaguely hope you pass out soon, but you’re sure your captors won’t let that happen.

 

The next thing you know, you’re frozen in place as you’re stripped methodically by Black Hat and strapped by Flug to some kind of surgical table. You can tell they’ve done this before, probably many times, from the way they cooperate seamlessly in their movements.

 

You’re bound everywhere you could possibly move – your forehead, neck, chest, elbows, wrists, belly, thighs, shins, and ankles. Flug pulls the gag from your mouth and you choke again, and the doctor just hums and pushes your hair away from your eyes. Somehow that only makes you panic more, and you begin to sob, thrashing as much as you can in your bonds.

 

“Where do you want to start?” Black Hat asks, and from the corner of your eye you see him start to shrug off his coat. The eldritch chuckles darkly at the look in your eye.

 

“Ah, don’t worry. I just don’t want to get these dirty,” he purrs, waving his coat on his finger before folding it and starting with his other garments. “I don’t take that kind of interest in vermin like you.”

 

You can’t figure out if you’re relieved or offended.

 

You flinch violently as you feel touch on your shoulder, and look over to see yellow gloved fingers tapping on your skin. A face appears above your own, and you recognize from the goggles that it’s Flug.

 

“Ah, I forget it always confuses people,” he says with a giggle. “I think some people think I don’t have a face, or even a head. Either way, the bag just gets in the way with this kind of…activity.”

 

He disappears again and your gaze darts around the room. You’re starting to get a headache, and it reminds you that you haven’t had a drink in hours.

 

“Can…can I,” you sob out, and swallow back the froth in your mouth. “Can I have, have a drink, please?”

 

It’s a stupid request, you know, but it seems Flug is going to comply.

 

“What?” he snapped, and you wonder if Black Hat gave him a look. “Their screams will be louder if they’re properly hydrated. If not, they’ll stay silent, and that’s no fun.”

 

There’s a smile in his voice, and you hear Black Hat grumble something under his breath as a small glass is pressed to your lips, and you do your best not to choke on it. Thankfully, you succeed, and Flug pulls the glass away with a hum.

 

You feel something touch you again, but this time it’s not with rubber. You do your best to look down at your collarbone, but all you can see is a dark gray forearm. You suppose that’s answer enough.

 

A scream leaves your throat when you feel claws dig into your skin, and you feel like you might vomit when you feel them scrape against your collarbone. The tears streaming down your cheeks, which had subsided and begun to dry, start again.

 

“Gentle, gentle,” Flug chides, and you watch his gloved hand smack Black Hat’s away. “You’ll kill them if you keep doing that. I want to have fun first.”

 

You don’t hear Black Hat’s response, if he even has one, but at this point you’re too distressed to pay attention…

 

…Flug prepares for a growl, but all he gets is a frown and crossed arms. He hums for a moment and picks up a scalpel from a group of shiny torture devices and medical tools laying on an equally shiny table.

 

“And put a shirt on,” the doctor continues with a wave of his scalpel, and strides over to a cabinet.

 

Black Hat watches Flug with a suspicious gaze, unsure of what he’s planning, but all the scientist does is toss a worn-out t-shirt at him.

 

“You’re lucky we’re the same size,” Flug grumbles as Black Hat pulls the shirt on. He turns back to his victim and shivers with glee.

 

“Mm, can you see me?” he asks, waving the scalpel around the unlucky victim’s face. Their gaze doesn’t follow, and Flug turns back to his table with a frown. His fingers wiggle for a bit before they grasp a small syringe full of liquid.

 

“What’s that?” Black Hat asks out of curiosity, but his tone betrays his impatience.

 

“Ah, it’s just adrenaline. It’ll wake them up a little,” Flug explains, bouncing a little as he moves to the victim’s side. “It’s not as fun when they check out.”

 

Black Hat nods and watches Flug closely as he injects the adrenaline into the bound victim. They gasp loudly and begin to struggle in their bonds again, which makes the eldritch shudder with glee.

 

“Please don’t hu-” they try to cry out, but Flug interrupts.

 

“ _Jefecito,_ I’ll get to show off a new invention of mine today,” he chirps, a grin wide on his face. “I don’t really have a name for it yet, but it’s like an instant microwave. This one,” he says, gesturing to what does look arguably like a futuristic microwave, “is just a prototype, and for now it only cooks meat, but I’m going to add more settings later on.” He giggles. “Isn’t that convenient, _jefe?_ ”

 

“Well, I suppose,” Black Hat responds as he drags his claws down the victim’s belly, “but why don’t you just eat it raw?”

 

“One, I like it better cooked,” Flug defends, “and two, it could make me sick. I’m not a biologist, but I’m pretty sure human meat contains some weird stuff.”

 

“ _Human meat?!_ ” the bickering couple’s meal shrieks, and effectively catches their attention.

 

“Oh, yes!” Flug sings, practically skipping over to the victim, scalpel still in his gloved hand. “And I’m going to cook it in front of you. Hmm, I think I’ll put a bag over your mouth in case you vomit. I don’t want to clean that up.”

 

He looks over to Black Hat, who is idly playing with the victim’s skin, and clears his throat. When the eldritch looks up, he asks sweetly, “Black Hat, could you get a bag, please?”

 

“Gladly,” Black Hat answers with a shrug. Once the bag is securely in place (which was a bit of a feat, considering the victim did their best to get away from it), he’s back to clawing intricate designs in their skin.

 

“Hey, what are those?” Flug asks as he unbuckles the strap over one of the victim’s thighs.

 

“Ah, just, um,” Black Hat stammers as his face darkens, “They’re…words. In my native language.”

 

Flug decides not to press any further and focuses on the task at hand. He manages to make a clean slice in the skin of his victim through their squirming. He hums as he works, and soon he’s tossing flaps of skin Black Hat’s direction. The eldritch happily chows down.

 

“Finally,” he groans, and glares at Flug. The doctor just shrugs.

 

“Listen, if we rush it, it won’t be neat, and if it’s not neat, we’ll be wasting what we could be eating.”

 

“Oh, fine.”

 

Flug continues this process of cutting away the skin until the victim no longer has any at all around their thighs. Blood drips slowly onto the sterile operating table, and Black Hat takes comfort knowing he’ll be able to lick it up when all is said and done.

 

“Time for the meat,” Flug murmurs to himself, and grabs what looks like an oversized steak knife from his table, laying his bloody scalpel down in its place. “Black Hat, you really did get a good one. It seems like they’ve been working out…”

 

“Of _course_ I got a good one,” Black Hat snaps, and Flug rolls his eyes.

 

“Feisty, aren’t you?” Flug quips as he sets a slab of muscle to the side. He sighs happily. This part is always relaxing, maybe even therapeutic. It’s so methodical, and it keeps his hands busy as well.

 

Black Hat enjoys simply watching Flug work.

 

* * *

 

Black Hat is unsure why their victim is still alive – the only parts of them remaining are their bones, tendons, organs, nerves, and head – but Flug insists it’s another of his inventions, so he doesn’t think much about it.

 

Flug is clearly proud of himself, with the evidence of both his (perfect) invention and (flawless) mutilation in front of him. He’s bouncing on his toes again, and Black Hat can’t help but smile watching him.

 

“So, um, I guess we can each take one side?” Flug offers, gesturing to a table beside them where he’d placed the victim’s muscles in the shape of their body. “I’m not a huge fan of organs, so you can have all of those. Not now, though, I want them to see me cook them first.”

 

Adrenaline had been injected into the victim again and again, every time they’d started to fade into unconsciousness, and now everything feels like hell. They know their body is gone, and they can’t move even if they try, and they just wish Flug would let them die already.

 

“They were excited for this,” Black Hat purrs, and Flug jumps in surprise when the eldritch wraps his arms around him. “You humans can be so naïve…”

 

Flug giggles and pushes Black Hat away. “Come on, you love me,” he teases as he begins placing his portion of meat into his “instant microwave.” He expects Black Hat to respond, but it seems the only thing on his mind is devouring his own meat portion.

 

Flug is practically jumping up and down now, hands shaking as he finally shuts the door of his machine. He presses the button reading _“MEDIO”_ and within five seconds it beeped at him.

 

He takes a slab of meat from the machine and holds it out. “Black Hat, look!” he squeaks, and the eldritch looks up from his meal. “It worked perfectly, _ah!”_

 

Black Hat grins, an even more unsettling sight than usual with bits of meat between his teeth and blood dripping down his chin.

 

“A wonderful job,” he praises, knowing just how much it matters to Flug. “Perhaps once you’ve refined your machine, we can market it.”

 

Flug squeals happily and darts over to kiss Black Hat on the cheek, then grabs the same piece of meat and dangles it above the victim’s face.

 

“It’s you!” he says with a giggle, a wild grin on his face as he chomps into the disturbing steak.

 

“Ugh, the first bite is always shitty, ‘cause I forget to spice it,” he grumbles, and shoves the meat back into his machine along with the rest. He gently shuts its door again and this time presses the button reading _“ESPECIAS.”_

 

When he takes the bitten steak, he holds it to his nose for a moment, then bites into it with a quiet groan. He’s fully immersed in his meal when he hears Black Hat call for him.

 

“Can I finish them off now?” he practically begs, and Flug just nods. The eldritch doesn’t hesitate to crawl over the victim’s body and tear apart their organs.

 

The last light leaves their eyes.

 

Flug hums quietly. “You can eat the head if you want,” he says through a large bite. “I don’t really need it for anything.”

 

There’s no response, but Flug knows he was heard. The doctor sighs and slides to the floor, scooping the meat from the instant cooker into his lap. He curls up and closes his eyes as he eats.

 

Black Hat gnaws absentmindedly on the victim’s skull – he’s already polished off every bit of flesh he possibly can – and watches his scientist with intrigue. There’s not much that brings Flug as much pleasure as this – other than science and aviation, of course.

 

“Enjoying your meal?” Black Hat purrs, and Flug smiles gently up at him. Out of context, the exchange would seem quite innocent.

 

“Mm,” is all that comes out of him, since he’s unwilling to put down his food, as his _Jefecito_ sits beside him and leans on his shoulder.

 

It’s not long before Flug is completely stuffed and snoring in Black Hat’s bed. The eldritch hums a tune to him as he sleeps, and decides they really must do this more often.

**Author's Note:**

> at some point, given enough motivation, im going to write a version of this with smut.
> 
> as for the spanish: "medio" is "medium" and "especias" is "spices"
> 
> my discord is smolpurpleboy#4150 if you wanna chat!


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